


run away with me.

by idkspookystuff



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, In this house we love and respect Katherine, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 21:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16145753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkspookystuff/pseuds/idkspookystuff
Summary: Jack doesn't have a word for what he and Davey are. All he knows is that, when Davey curls up to him in his bed and says "run away with me", Jack feels butterflies.





	run away with me.

**Author's Note:**

> oh my goodness.
> 
> how did i not know that newsies was the GAYEST disney franchise ever. i cannot believe i've been sleeping on this. WOOF. if davey and jack aren't gay for each other, you're lying.
> 
> let me know what you think in the comments below. i'll reply to every comment because i crave validation haha. also feel free to follow my [my broadway blog](http://www.treeboys.tumblr.com) if you wanna.
> 
> love ya!
> 
> \- seb

It’s a cold night.

Crutchie, of course, is fast asleep. He could probably sleep through anything, even the cold night. He’s warm because he has both his and Jack’s blankets (Jack put it over him when he fell asleep) and is blissfully unaware of Jack freezing his ass off. Jack crosses his arms over his chest and rubs his arms. The skin pricks up in goosebumps and he sighs. There’s no way in hell he’s going to sleep tonight, apparently.

There’s a sudden loud  _ thump _ from the stairs, the sound of someone walking up to the roof. Jack tenses for a minute; none of his newsies are that quiet except for Davey, who’s sound asleep at home with Les and their folks. Jack rests a heavy hand on Crutchie’s shoulder, ready to wake the kid to tell him to run while Jack fights off whoever’s tryna get them, when Davey rounds the corner and spots them.

Jack relaxes and Davey sighs. “Jackie,” he says, his voice thick with sleep. He doesn’t sound like the rest of them, (he didn’t grow up on the streets, after all, he actually went to school and got an education while they were fighting to survive), but when he’s really tired, his accent thickens into something that makes Jack feel warm all over.

Jack and Davey have a weird thing that’s going on. It started the night Jack and Katherine broke up. It was a mutual thing (Katherine was going to college far away from New York City, where Jack assured her she would meet guys that were far, far better than poor guys living in New York) but it still stung. Jack and Davey were laying side-by-side on the roof when Davey told him to cheer up. “You’ll be okay,” he said, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. “You’re Jack freakin’ Kelly. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

A little drunk on the whiskey Davey had stolen from his parents for them, and a lot drunk on the way Davey’s crooked smile was somehow brighter than every star, Jack leaned in and kissed him _ hard _ . 

They don’t have a name for what they are. Sometimes they make out; sometimes Davey sneaks Jack into his house and they fall asleep in his bed and Jack has to wake up at the asscrack of dawn just so Davey’s dad doesn’t catch them; sometimes Jack sneaks Davey into the theater and Medda pretends not to see them make out under the stage; sometimes Davey sneaks up onto the roof and sighs at Jack. This is one of those nights.

“It’s freezing.” Davey walks over, careful not to wake Crutchie, and sits next to Jack. He rests his hands on Jack’s biceps and squeezes. “Jesus. You’re frozen.” He takes off his own coat - it’s big on him, probably his dad’s - and drapes it over Jack. “Why’re you up here? I told you that you coulda come to mine.”

“Didn’t wanna bother you,” Jack says. He curls under Davey’s coat and feels the cold disperse a little bit. It’s nice, but he can’t help but realize that now Davey’s shivering. “Now you’re cold.” He shrugs the jacket off and holds it out towards Davey. “Here.” 

“Keep it. I’m not gonna be cold for long.” Davey stands and offers a hand to Jack. Jack takes his hand and stands, and then he doesn’t drop it. Davey looks at their combined hands and goes red. 

“Where’re we goin’?” Jack asks. The two of them step over Crutchie, sound asleep on the floor. Davey rips a page from Jack’s sketchbook - “ _ hey _ !” Jack yells as he does - and writes out ‘ _ be back in the morning - Jack _ .’ Crutchie will probably be able to tell it’s not Jack’s handwriting (he’s dumb but he’s not _ that _ dumb) but he won’t question it. 

“We’re sneaking back into my house and sleeping in my bed,” Davey answers. 

Jack sighs. He breaks away from Davey and looks back at Crutchie. “I can’t leave ‘im.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “He’s dead asleep, Jackie. We’ll be back before he even knows you’re gone. And ‘sides,” he holds up the paper, which he drops next to Crutchie. “That’s why we’re leavin’ him a note.” 

Jack would argue, but around Davey, all the fight leaves him. He shrugs his agreement and that’s good enough for Davey. The two of them scale down the building (Jack first and Davey second) and drop each other’s hands once they’re on the street. Davey looks over his shoulder for a cop (though they don’t have to worry about the refuge anymore, they still have to be worried about being seen together like this) before he starts towards his house.

As they walk, Davey stands as close to Jack as he possibly can without raising suspicion. Jack can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “Didja tell Crutchie about-” Davey trails off with a pointed nod between the two of them.

Jack rubs the back of his neck. “Nah,” he answers. “He pro’ally ain’t gonna care but-” he shrugs. The ‘ _ but _ ’ lies heavy between them - the reason that they’re afraid to let anyone in on their secret. But what if he does care, what if he rats them out to the authorities, what if they get thrown in jail, what if all the newsies know they’re queer, what if, what if, what if?

“I understand,” Davey says instead of any of that. He looks around again before he grabs Jack’s hand and gives it a quick little squeeze. “It’s unfair,” he adds. “I bet one day, guys like us won’t have to hide. They’ll have-” he pauses here, throws his hands up “-parades or something.”

Jack snorts. “Parades,” he repeats, his accent coating the word. “Feature that, huh? A parade a’ queers.” 

Davey gives Jack a smile that could convince Jack to lead the goddamn parade, if that would make Davey smile. “I’m serious,” he insists. “I feel it in the air, Jackie. One day, something’s gonna change.” They get to Davey’s house and walk to the back, where Davey and Sarah’s rooms are. “Unfortunately, today is not that day. You gotta be quiet. My parents are sleeping.”

Jack rolls his eyes goodnaturedly. “I know the drill, Dave,” he answers. He lets Davey climb up first and sweep the room. Once he’s sure his folks are asleep, he climbs on the balcony and gives Jack a thumbs up. Jack then scales the building with slightly more ease than Davey (he’s been doing it for a while, after all) and climbs in through his window.

Davey’s room is a mess - there are books scattered all over the place, papers with scratchy handwriting, covered in ink stains. He’s been studying like crazy since he started school again, telling Jack about homework and teachers and exams, things Jack knows nothing about. 

Davey clears some books of his bed (Jack catches sight of ‘ _ American Law _ ’ and scoffs) and sits down. “C’mere, Jackie,” he says. He gets under the covers and holds up an end for Jack. Jack takes his shoes off and shucks off Davey’s dad’s jacket, leaving it on a chair near Davey’s desk, where there’s a stack of papers. Jack catches sight of one that says ‘ _ congratulations _ !’ but thinks nothing of it; if it was something really important, Davey would have told him. He pulls his shirt over his head (Davey whistles low in his throat, to which Jack chucks a crumpled up newspaper at him) and adds it to the pile as well. 

Jack climbs into the bed and pulls Davey to his chest. He runs his hands through Davey’s hair (a curly mess after sleeping on it for so long) and sighs. For a while, neither of them say anything. Jack can tell Davey has something he wants to say, though. 

Sure enough, Davey speaks. “I got into Columbia,” he says quietly.

Jack feels his heart break. Of course Davey got into Columbia; he’s the smartest person Jack knows. Of course he’s going to college and he’s gonna get a degree and he’s probably gonna find someone that reads Shakespere or Poe or can write like Davey can. It’s like Katherine all over again.  Jack knew it was too good to be true.

He doesn’t voice any of this. Jack Kelly sure as hell ain’t smart, but he knows when to shut his mouth about certain things. “Oh,” he answers simply.

Davey looks up at him - big, blue eyes, all ernest - and squeezes Jack’s arm. “I’m not going without you,” he says. “If you don’t want to go, I’ll stay right here. I’ll get a job in Manhattan and I’ll stay with you.” He pauses. “But if you do wanna go-”. He lets it hang for a second. Then: “run away with me, Jackie.”

Jack scoffs, “as if,” he answers.

Davey shakes his head. “No, I’m serious.” He answers. He sits up a little bit, his hair a mess, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. He’s the most heartbreakingly beautiful person Jack’s ever seen. “I found an apartment up there. Far away from everything; strike news and my parents and the boys. No one will know us. We can move in together and no one will bat an eye; everyone’s got a roommate at Columbia. We’ll never have to be quiet again. You won’t have to sneak out. We can just lie in bed all day. Kissin’-” he trails off here, his cheeks flushed red. 

“You’d move in with me?” Jack asks. “You ain’t want no girl or nothin’? Just some queer kid from ta’ streets who ain’t know up from down?”

Davey looks so earnest when he replies. “Yes, Jackie,” he answers. “I-” he trails off, like he has something else to say. He says nothing. “Yes.”

Jack thinks he gets it, somehow. “What about the other newsies?” he asks. “I gots to take care a’ my boys. If I ain’t, who’s gonna?” 

“They got Crutchie,” Davey answers. “And Spot and Race. They’ll be okay without you, Jackie. You trained them well. And besides, we’ll only be a train ride away from them.”

Jack thinks about it. There are so many reasons why running away with Davey is a bad idea. They have no money, Davey’ll be in school, Jack will have to find work, what if someone finds out they’re queer, what about when they’re expected to marry?

But sitting here, with the moonlight shining on Davey, Jack finds none of that matters. He loves Davey. He’s never said it aloud, but it’s true. He’s in love with Davey Jacobs.

“Okay,” Jack says, if only to make Davey’s face light up again. Davey settles back down, lays on Jack’s chest. Jack traces lazy patterns on Dave’s arms. 

They’ll have to talk about it in the morning. They’ll have long conversations about it. Jack will have to tell Crutchie and the rest of the boys. It’s incredibly dangerous.

For tonight, though, none of that matters. All that matters is Davey and the moonlight and the faintest notion of love. “I’ll run away with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow my [my broadway blog](http://www.treeboys.tumblr.com) if you wanna.


End file.
